Other Men’s words
The kerbstones that I’ve misplaced
Searching their words, for rhyme or reason
Staining seasons passed, it’s now clearer space
Gravestones and epitaphs
Inscriptions defy descriptions, of the words I’m after
Gathering spontaneity, picking grave to grave
A kaleidoscopic conversation, a generation saved
The lilacs and the bluebells, cards from Mrs May
Carpets of bluebells, thorns and lilies; far away days
Of all the deaths you’ve told and listened
All the bouquets you’ve pondered and passed
You’ve read other men’s words
Passed their pasts, into some unknown future place
Searched their faces for rhyme or reason
Staining seasons passed, a new ‘to begin’ space
Footnote
The first poem in trying to break away from the poetry of the past, that morning I’d written a few words of closure (however temporary) on a past relationship, I’d read a little of Adrian Henry, and halfway through typing up the poem Mr Van Morrison came along, singing of Madame George. The following 24 poems are from a vacation in Kos immediately after this idea to change.
